“I don’t.” His lips twitched. “And perhaps you don’t need to either.”
“But why? Why do you want to teach me…whatever it is you’re going to teach me?” She threw her hands in the air, befuddled. “I’m just a temp.”
He turned his back to her and walked toward the window overlooking the city. Against the backdrop, he looked like an image from a slick magazine—Vogue, perhaps, or The New Yorker.
If only I had a camera, this would make a great picture.
“I have an eye for talent,” Cullen said, after a long silence. He turned back towards her. “When I started this business, they thought I was insane. I hired people that the business world assumed were the wrong choices. Everyone on Wall Street insisted I would fail within the first year.”
“But you didn’t fail,” she whispered.
“No,” he said. His eyes connected with hers and for the first time, she thought she saw something behind the cool diamond hardness of his gaze.
What was it? What did she sense behind his eyes? Someone vulnerable, someone who actually had real human emotions like her?
As quickly as the feeling arose, it passed, like the moon being obscured by clouds. His eyes were just cold and watchful once more.
Ivy folded her hands in her lap and licked her lips. “So what happens now?”
“What happens now is that we start our work together,” Cullen said, his voice becoming more formal. “How does that sound?”
“Okay, I guess—“ she caught the words too late.
His eyes narrowed and his lips tightened. “You guess,” he said. He shook his head and sighed. “Let’s go back to this morning when you brought me my coffee. Why did you spill it?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s a lie, Ivy. Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” she said, her voice petulant.
“You don’t think you’re lying, but that’s only because you lie to yourself.” He crossed his arms and watched her. “Now tell me why you spilled the coffee.”
She felt sweat breaking out on her forehead and beneath her arms. The cool room was becoming hotter now, as if someone was turning up the thermostat. “I got nervous. I was so focused on doing everything just right…”
She thought about how catching sight of his smile that morning had distracted her—the sight of his perfect lips up close had caused her to fumble the tray enough to allow the cup to fall on its side. But she couldn’t admit that to him.
“I got distracted,” she said, keeping her answer vague. “I was so in my head that I lost track of what I was doing.”
Cullen nodded as if approving of her answer. “Do you know why you were so nervous in the first place?”
She looked up at him, meeting his gaze. “You’re a very intimidating person.”
“And why is that?” he asked, seeming to be sincere.
She laughed at the obviousness of the answer. “You own this company and I’m a temp.”
“And that makes you nervous.”
“Yes, because you can fire me. I need the money.”
Cullen nodded almost imperceptibly. “You’re terrified of consequences, Ivy. I’m going to help you learn to deal with consequences.”
Ivy felt her stomach tensing at his insistent words and the force of his personality. It was as if she couldn’t even breathe anymore.
Suddenly, she wanted out. Out of the room. Out from under his intense scrutiny. “I think I need to go now,” she said, wanting to run. Wanting to escape. She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can really do this.”
“You so obviously want to do this, Ivy.” His gaze flicked down to her breasts, and then her legs. She felt as if he was undressing her right there with his eyes, and she crossed her legs and tugged on her skirt, feeling that her thighs were exposed.
I don’t like the way he’s looking at me, she thought.
But then why were her nipples so stiff and tender? Why did she feel a strange stirring in her lower belly, and even further down?
Between her legs?
She felt positively drenched in sweat. “Are you…are you being inappropriate with me, Mister Sharpe?”
Cullen grinned, a real full grin that she’d never seen him do before. “What if I say yes?”
He’s enjoying this. He’s loving it.
“I’d say that…” She cleared her throat and raised her voice. “I’d say that you shouldn’t take advantage of your job title to make someone in my position feel uncomfortable.”
“If you want this to stop, you only need to say the word.” He returned to sit behind his black desk.
She swallowed drily.
Of course I want this to stop.
She almost said the words, except that she suddenly wasn’t sure of what she wanted at all.
Is Cullen Sharpe hitting on me? Does he want me sexually? Or is this just some perverse game where he gets to make a temp’s head spin and then he laughs about it later on with his other male coworkers?
She didn’t have the faintest clue anymore. Cullen had managed to completely befuddle her in the space of a few minutes.